


Cat Tongue

by MxMacabre (Jacque_le_Prince)



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Blood and Violence, Descent into Madness, Hallucinations, Paranoia, Psychological Horror, Tongues, Unreliable Narrator, Unsettling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:19:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9469133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacque_le_Prince/pseuds/MxMacabre
Summary: Here, we're presented with a psychological horror story around a completely harmless object that each and every one of us is familiar with: a tongue. (inspired by Stephen King's "The Moving Finger").





	1. Chapter 1

[Part 1/2]

The feeling of moisture evaporating from her skin. The sticky feeling left behind. The lingering feeling of pressure.

Simone Douglass lifted up her head as she smoothly transitioned from her sleep state into wakefulness. Her dry eyes observed the dark lump retracting itself from her hand and receding into the wall. Her fist clenched at the unclean feeling.

It had to have been a product of her recent dream state, she knew, but she couldn’t shake the unsettling sensation left on her exposed hand.

The woman pulled her hand in and turned to lie on her back. She periodically shifted and turned in bed, but it was fruitless. No matter how she settled, she couldn’t fall asleep. Simone was wide awake. And the moment she realized that, she also realized that she had been holding her hand closely to her chest, as if it had been injured. But it wasn’t injured. No, it just felt dirty.

“Geez…” Simone irritably threw the covers aside and swung her legs over the bed.

She didn’t bother turning on the light at the cost of burning her already dry eyes and awakening her housemate, who’s open bedroom door would allow any light to slither in.

The woman quietly made her short trip to the bathroom down the hallway. She closed the door behind herself before she finally clicked on the lights. The sea green walls helped curb the brightness.

Simone reached out to both silver knobs on the porcelain white sink to get an even temperature of water. She pumped a dollop of soap directly onto her right hand only to gasp in surprise.

The area which felt dirty was now an angry shade of red. It was blotchy, much like a rash. The cool soap on it even gave it a sense of relief as it oozed over the skin.

The woman continued to wash her hand carefully and not agitate the red spot any more.

“ _So it was a spider bite_ ,” she thought to herself “ _And I left the thing alive in my room. It’ll be hell trying to find it._ ”

Regardless, Simone returned to her bedroom with the full intent to seek out the nuisance. Such occurrences were to be expected during the spring, but it was no less annoying.

The woman turned on the bedroom light and reached for one of the sandals that she discarded at the door that afternoon.

She immediately began walking towards her bed, but stopped halfway there. Her brow furrowed in a skeptical frown. Her mouth was frozen in a silent “What…?”. The sandal in her hand whined as her fingers dug into its leather.

A tongue hung out of the wall right next to her bed.

It wriggled about in an attempt to lick whatever was right in front of it. If Simone were in bed right now, sleeping on her stomach as she often did, that object would be her hand.

The saliva coating it shined in the light as it moved.

Simone’s breath came out in a pitiful wheeze. She clutched the sandal closer to her as if it were a knife. Though, the footwear trembled dangerously in her hands.

The woman’s head grew fuzzy and weightless. Her body numbed and her ears became filled with the sound of her own heartbeat. Simone stumbled backwards, her unfocused eyes struggling to stay on the tongue. She somehow managed to exit the bedroom and close the door in front of her.

Simone didn’t think. While her mind blanked out, her legs carried her into the living room and onto the cold leather couch. A shiver ran up her spine as her bare skin came in contact with it, but slumber swept over her before she had time to complain.

* * *

The aromas of bacon and maple syrup welcomed Simone’s morning. Overall body pain was next to welcome her, followed by a heaviness in her head.

She sat up with a groan, gaining the attention of the woman in the kitchen.

“Good morning,” chirped the blonde pushing around frying eggs in a skillet.

Simone yawned just as she replied “G’morning, Chloe…”

She rose from the couch and sauntered into the kitchen “Need me to pitch in?” she asked.

“No thanks,” denied Chloe “To be honest, you’d probably mess up my flow.”

Simone scoffed as she seated herself at the table “Wow, that’s your response to a helping hand?”

When Chloe heard that her best friend had been looking for a place to settle down two years ago, she didn’t hesitate to open her doors to the woman. Simone had planned to move to a quieter, calmer area, and the modest city of Lexington where her friend resided practically begged for her stay.

“So, any reason you were sleeping on the couch last night?” asked Chloe.

Simone soured at the memory of the previous night. The tongue in the wall stayed clear in her mind. It was unmistakable, but it couldn’t be true. A tongue in the wall? Preposterous. It had to be a construct of her mind.

“I got bitten by a spider last night,” explained Simone.

“Yikes, you’re serious?” hissed Chloe “The bugs around here are usually pretty tame. I’ve lived here all my life and never once got a bug bite.”

Simone rolled her eyes “Well apparently they’re not too keen on my arrival. The bite really left a mark…”

As the woman spoke, she lifted her hand up to regard the bite. However, her words ended up trailing off.

The smooth brown skin of her hand was completely untouched and flawless.

Neither the red irritation or any signs of a bite were present on her hand.

“Where did it bite you?”

Simone looked up to see Chloe leaning over her with a tray full of steaming food.

“M-My hand,” she replied with uncertainty “I…guess it healed though.”

Chloe set down the tray and sat down at the table “Overnight? Well that’s lucky,” she said as she began to fill up her own plate “Did you kill the spider?”

The memory of the tongue leaped back into Simone’s mind as she started getting herself some food. Her appetite ebbed a little bit as she shivered “No…I couldn’t find it.”

Chloe shook her head “That’s always the worst,” she murmured in annoyance.

The two continued eating their breakfast and making idle chatter. As Simone dived more and more into the normalcy of the morning, she felt her fear of last night fade away.

“ _It probably was never a spider to begin with,_ ” she thought “ _Maybe I had a nightmare. Yeah, that’s it. Nothing bad._ ”

With that, she felt content, but when breakfast was over and Chloe left for work, Simone couldn’t find herself able to leave the table. Or rather, she couldn’t bring herself to go back to her room.

“ _Come on, you just said it was a nightmare_ ,” she thought “ _No twenty-six year old would be scared out of their room by a nightmare_.”

Besides that, she would have to get ready for work that afternoon, too. Her clothes were in her bedroom. She couldn’t let a mere illusion keep her from tending to her responsibilities.

Simone stood up from the table and staggered her way to the bedroom. However, when she got to the closed door, her armpits prickled at the start of anxiety sweat. Her body went rigid as she stared at the door. Two forces were fighting inside of her; one that wanted to prove the absence of the tongue, the other fearing the existence of the tongue.

This was the case of Schrödinger’s Cat. A cat is placed in a soundproof box with a bottle of poison. If the cat knocks over the bottle, the gas from the poison will kill it. There is no way to see or hear anything that occurs within the box until it is opened. This leaves the question, “Is the cat alive or dead?”

There were two possibilities of the tongue Simone saw: it was either real or fake. When Simone opened that door, one of the possibilities would come true.

There was a fifty percent chance that the tongue was real.

Simone’s hand was on the doorknob.

A jarring ringing sound caused the woman to jump back from the door with a startled cry. She landed on her backside with a hard thump, but the adrenaline pumping through her body blocked any form of pain that she could have felt from the impact.

Her fear then turned into relief as she came to the quick realization that the ringing was only the alarm on her cellphone from inside the bedroom. It was the alarm that told her it was time to start getting ready for work in case there was an off chance that she slept in past the conventional 7 AM to 8 AM interim.

Simone stood up again, “ _No more games_ ,” she reprimanded herself.

She took hold of the doorknob and twisted it. She then flung it open with reckless abandon, much like ripping off a bandaid.

The woman looked to the spot next to her bed.

No tongue.

“ _Well duh_ ,” she chastised herself. Despite the sour comment, she was also thanking the gods above.

Simone turned off the alarm on her cellphone and pulled out articles of clothing from her closet to assemble her outfit. She then turned and ventured to the bathroom, a small skip in her step.

Although it barely registered as a victory, her shower felt well-deserved and rightfully earned. The hot water felt energizing on her brown skin and filled her with a sense of boldness. Though, she would be lying if the pungent odor of her anxiety sweat didn’t irritate her a bit. Even when she rubbed the bare soap bar under her arms, traces of the smell still lingered. There were tiny fine hairs on the skin. She had only shaved recently, but if that hair was holding that odor, she would definitely have to shave it again.

When Simone stepped out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around herself and padded her way to the sink. All that met her in the mirror was a blurry reflection muddled by steam, but she didn’t need to look at herself in order to brush her own teeth.

Brushing her teeth was second nature to Simone, naturally, as she did it everyday. However, for some reason, she found herself beginning to gag.

When she did this, the woman made a note to slow down her brushing and not be so aggressive with her movements. Regardless, she gagged again.

Simone removed the toothbrush from her mouth and spat out the frothy contents. She didn’t find anything odd in the minty slurry. The woman then wiped the mirror as best as she could and dropped her jaw before the small space of clarity that was quickly fogging back up again.

She quickly closed her mouth. She didn’t see anything abnormal, but the sight of her tongue hanging over her lip brought back the memory of the illusion from last night. Suddenly, she was hyper aware of how her tongue rested in her mouth. No matter how she closed her mouth, her tongue would never be fully relaxed. As that knowledge further settled, her tongue began to quiver behind her teeth. She began to wonder where the back of her tongue ended, and what it looked like when it merged with the back on her throat.

Simone clutched at her neck as another gag washed over her. She coughed, but nothing came up. She didn’t even feel anything in her throat that wanted to come up.

“ _I’m imagining things again_ ,” she thought.

Without much thought, the woman pulled out her razor blade from her tray of toiletries and carefully shaved her armpits. There was a small sense of satisfaction when she traced her fingers over the smooth, clean skin.

She exited the bathroom, the remaining steam leaving along with her. The feeling of dirt clinging to her wet feet as she stepped down the hallway nagged at her a bit, but it was nothing unusual. She had considered wearing a pair of flip-flops the next time she showered to avoid it.

Simone entered her room, ready to get dressed, only to be greeted by a lapping sound.

The tongue hung out of the wall, wagging around rapidly and flinging specks of saliva around.

“Ah…ahh…Aghh!!” Simone stepped back. Fresh beads of sweat began to form on her freshly cleaned skin, dirtying her again. Her face grew hot as anger fueled her being.

“No dammit!!”

The woman darted her head around for something, _anything_ that she could use to execute the muscle. She jumped to her feet and ran towards the kitchen. She couldn’t remember when, during her haste, the towel fell from her body. All that was on her mind was getting her hands on a knife. Even a butter knife would have sufficed.

There!

Simone wasted no time. In a matter of seconds, the woman was charging at the bedroom wall with her knife in hand as she cried out in determination.

The knife slid into the wall like cold butter. It gave some resistance, but it sliced through, nonetheless. That was a problem, though. Simone wanted to cut the tongue, not the wall. Right now, the only thing sticking out of the wall was the knife.

Simone slid her hand off of the handle, staring at the spectacle before her. She shivered upon realizing her bareness. She had to get dressed and go to work. She reeked of sweat, but there was no time to take a second shower. She would just have to suck it up and put up with the feeling of her clothes clinging to her dirty skin.


	2. Chapter 2

Simone felt like she had floated all the way to her job like a ghost. With how smoothly she slipped past the radar of her coworkers, she was almost convinced that she had died of a heart attack in her room that morning and her spirit was now carrying the normal motions of her daily life. Though, one would not expect to gain much attention from working in the mailroom of a big corporate business. Rather than being put out on the forefront for all to see, the woman sat in a modest room with a few other people given the same tasks.

As she listlessly sorted the mail, her mind continued to ponder the tongue in her room. For hours, she kept replaying the scenes of her encounters with the tongue over and over in her mind.

“ _It’s clearly a hallucination, since that knife ended up messing up my wall instead of any tongue_ ,” she thought “ _But then, why do I keep seeing it? And why just in my room? Why in that exact spot? Is there some weird Freudian excuse behind it or something?_ ”

The sound of her coworkers conversing on the other side of the room acted as a nice sense of white noise. Though, it did not to much to ease Simone’s thoughts. However, one word in particular stuck out to her from their conversation: tongue.

Simone jumped in her seat and glanced over her shoulder to regard the adults behind her. She didn’t catch what the young redhead boy had said that included the dreaded word, so she had to rely on the burly woman’s response.

“That’s because cat’s tongues are barbed,” she said “Though, it beats getting slobbered on by a dog.”

The redhead boy shivered “B-Barbed? Like…there are little hooks on it?”

The burly woman nodded “Don’t worry. It ain’t nothing when it’s on a lil’ house cat. I mean, Mittens didn’t skin your face when she licked ya, right?”

“Still, it’s not a pretty picture,” shuddered the boy “Imagining dozens of hooks on your tongue…ugh.”

“She’s fine,” reassured the burly woman with a dismissive wave “God wouldn’t make creatures that can’t handle their own bodies.”

Simone grimaced at the image, herself, upon hearing the boy’s reaction. Again, she became conscious of how her own tongue sat in her mouth.

Warm liquid slipped past the woman’s lips. She reached up, embarrassed, to wipe what she assumed was saliva from her chin. The only time she had ever seen people drool from daydreaming was in outdated cartoons. She was, however, surprised to see a sticky red liquid on her finger.

Simone’s eyes widened as she noticed the metallic taste lining her mouth. Her lips parted to voice her concern, but she was struck with a horrible pain. It felt like thousands of glass shards had somehow lodged themselves in the roof of her mouth. Her jaw dropped to scream, but it came out muffled behind her tongue, which was stuck to the roof of her mouth. When it wriggled, the pain worsened and dug deep into her flesh. Specks of blood flew onto the papers before her and dripped down the sides of her mouth.

Simone screamed and flailed her hands in front of her as she felt her mouth get torn apart from the inside. With her tongue stuck, the blood that poured down her throat could not be swallowed. She began to choke on the blood, her panic only worsening the situation. Her throat burned from her coughing and screaming.

“Simone? Hey Simone!”

The woman gasped.

Simone’s tongue no longer stuck to her mouth. No traces of blood and or the excruciating pain that she felt were completely absent. Even when she reached up to touch her lips and the roof of her mouth, both were smooth and unharmed.

Beside her, the young boy regarded her in bewilderment “Were—were you asleep?” he asked “You had your head down for a long time.”

“I…I did?” Simone gripped the edge of her hairline, eyes vacant in disbelief.

“ _Another hallucination, huh?_ ”

Simone rubbed her eyes. Shifting from such an intense state of pain to wellness actually made her feel nauseous. Even just remembering it made her feel that agony again. Though, it was clear that it hadn’t happened. Her tongue did not grow barbs and tear apart her mouth. That was impossible.

Yet, it felt so real. So terrifyingly real.

“Are you okay?” asked the young boy “Do you need something? Some water?”

Simone nearly vomited at the idea of swallowing something.

“No thank you,” she rasped “I’m okay, Steven. Just a little tired today.”

The redhead hesitated, but stepped away with a retreating “Okay then.”

Simone watched the young boy walk away, using his casual stride to ground herself. She sighed through her nose and returned her gaze to her work.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was supposed to be only two chapters long, but I got stuck. This is all I could get down, so I decided to just publish it now instead of waiting until I completely finished. I apologize for that.


	3. Chapter 3

Simone ceased to eat and drink after that experience.

Her stomach ached for food, but whenever she would attempt to eat, a wave of repulsion would prevent her from swallowing. The same reaction even happened when she tried to drink a simple bottle of water. No matter how hungry Simone was, not even her favorite dishes could get down her throat. Her hunger and thirst would be temporarily subdued when she brushed her teeth, she noticed. So she decided to brush her teeth at least three times a day in the place of her meals.

It wasn’t easy to maintain, though, due to Simone’s housemate.

She had told Chloe that she was sick and couldn’t keep anything down. Regardless, the blonde insisted that she had to eat something. She suggested every food that would be nausea-friendly. Simone’s stomach growled at the sight and smell of each and every one of them, but none of it made it down.

She had gotten sent home from work after they found out that she had gone three days without eating or drinking. At this, Simone was frustrated. She insisted that she was fine and that her sluggish behavior was only the cause of a stomach bug. However, her boss argued that her coworkers saw her faint at her desk. Simone brushed it off as her just falling asleep, but her boss wasn’t convinced.

It wasn’t so much as Simone hated missing work. It was more that she didn’t want to have to be bedridden while that tongue remained in her room. She tried resting on the living room couch, but that only added to Chloe’s suspicion.

“Simone, I want to understand what’s going on. You can’t tell me that this is normal.”

Beads of sweat were rolling down the other woman’s face. Her brown skin held a sickly pallor underneath its hue. She couldn’t live like this. It was hell, but what was the cost? Being sent away to a mental asylum? She wasn’t insane.

“I’m just…sick. I just…” Simone’s dry lips scraped against one another as she spoke.

A small bottle of water was pressed to her arm.

“Please, just try this for me,” insisted Chloe, her voice weak.

Simone had been offered water before, but this time, she was determined. She was sick of being pushed around by this phenomena. She refused to be pushed around any longer by a mere appendage.

“ _I’m not gonna die like this._ ”

Simone took hold of the bottle and opened it. Life bled into her as she pressed it to her lips and drank. The cool feeling was so surreal, almost orgasmic. But then, something firm pushed up against her mouth, blocking any more water from passing through.

Simone ceased her drinking to inspect the bottle.

At first, she thought it was an eraser, the shape, size, and color matching almost precisely. But then Chloe gasped. Simone saw why.

Inside the water bottle was not an eraser, but a small barbed tongue.

The bottle dropped from the woman’s hand as she pushed past her friend to rush into the bathroom behind her. The sounds of retching and water splashing echoed as Chloe picked up the bottle with trembling hands.

“H-H-How…?” the blonde breathed “How did this even happen?”

Simone’s hand slammed on the bathroom door frame “You…you tried to kill me!”

Chloe twisted around, startled and barely able to gasp “Wha…?! Simone, I-I don’t know how I didn’t see this—“

“You’re a part of this, aren’t you?! You and those two at work! You knew all along!” Simone spat “Why would you even think this is funny? It’s disgusting!”

“Simone, please! I really don’t know what you’re talking about! Just…”

“I can’t trust any of you anymore!” scolded the other woman “I…” she looked around, then settled her eyes on her keychain resting on the desk beside her.

“Until this shit ends, I’m leaving,” she snatched them up in her hands and stomped away.

Chloe followed her friend as she moved towards the door, begging for her to stay, but Simone was unwavering.

* * *

Simone checked into a hotel that day. As the clock ticked away in her room and her frantic mind soothed, she became more aware of just how grimy her surroundings her. When she stomped into the lobby, she didn’t notice the dust bunnies scurrying in the corner. The musty odor didn’t register in her mind as she grumpily asked the deskman for a room. Even as she trudged down the long hallway, she stained carpets and sticky wooden walls didn’t catch her attention. Now she was sitting on the edge of the bed afraid to lie down for fear of what new gross discovery she would make.

Simone berated herself for not having the sense to take her time and look for a more sanitary hotel. The urge to vomit washed over her again, but nothing came.

“ _Cassidy and Jeremy were talking about cat tongues in the mailroom that day. I see them around the office, but I’ve never said more than a few words to them. Why would they do this to me if we hardly know each other?_ ”

Simone leaned back on her arms, feeling herself become more exhausted “ _Of course they chose to talk about it near the mailroom the day after I found it. It must be them. Those sick fucks, cutting off cats’ tongues just to get a laugh. I could have them arrested!_ ”

Simone felt her eyelids grow heavy “ _But the tongue in my room…It’s not like the one in the water. It’s way too big and too moist to belong to a cat. What in God’s name did it belong to?_ ”

Simone fell back against the bed “ _And it moves…so whatever it belongs to is still alive._ ”

* * *

When Simone next opened her eyes, she was back in her bedroom.

She didn’t believe it at first, but when she blinked a few times, she knew what she was looking at.

The woman sat up in her bed and looked beside her. The tongue wasn’t in the wall. Her chest heaved slightly in a sigh of relief.

Simone slipped out of bed and walked over to her door, but the knob refused to turn in her hand. This knocked the last bit of drowsiness from her mind and instantly sent her into dread. Simone pulled on the door knob until her hands turned red. It didn’t make sense. Her door was supposed to lock from the inside to keep people on the outside from entering. All of the doors in the house were built that way. It was impossible for anyone to get locked inside of a room.

Simone banged her fists on the door while calling for her housemate. Cries for help soon turned to shouts of anger and profanity. Then, they died down almost abruptly.

“ _She’s probably at work_ ,” the woman thought.

Simone gave the door a final bang before retreating to her bed with a tired sigh. She had worked up a sweat, and after spending the night in that dirty hotel, she wanted nothing more than to take a shower.

The woman lied there for minutes, brewing in her own swamp of unpleasant feelings. The she heard it.

 _Slick_.

Immediately, Simone leaped from her bed and backed herself into a corner. She trembled.

The tongue was even bigger and more repulsive than before. It had grown to become the length of her forearm. It had a thick girth emphasized by the bulging veins on the underside. Simone could clearly see the barbs on top now that they had grown, too.

The woman gave a sob. There was no way for her to attack it with her bare hands. Even if she did get over her initial disgust, her skin would be shredded to the bone by the barbs.

The woman hugged her knees to her chest, praying that the madness would end.

* * *

Hours passed.

The walls were coated in slick, slow-moving saliva. The liquid dripped slowly from the ceiling in thin strings. On the television was black and white footage of a person’s throat as they choked, they uvula spasming desperately.

Simone had gotten used to her surroundings. The room’s state had been steadily declining as time passed. She thought it almost merciful that these changes graced her with the time to let her ease into the horror that she was in now.

Simone’s head jerked up at the sound of the front door closing followed by unmistakable footsteps. She moved to knock on the door again, but stumbled over her weak legs.

“Simone? Hey, are you still in there?” Chloe’s muffled voice penetrated the bedroom door.

“Chloe?” The woman’s voice came out in a hoarse tone, but still audible.

The footsteps hurried to the bedroom door “Are you feeling any better?” Chloe asked.

“Chloe why did you lock me in here? Why did you take me away from the hotel?!”

“Hotel? What are you talking about? Don’t you remember coming back last night?”

Simone paused, just barely able to mouth “Wha…?”

“You came back at, like, three in the morning and went straight into your room without even saying anything.”

Simone shook her head. No, she didn’t remember any of that. She had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep in that dusty hotel bed last night. There was no way she could have ended up back in her room unless someone had transported her.

“ _But I didn’t tell anyone where I was staying_ ,” she thought.

“Please, just please get me out of here! I don’t know how, but I’m locked in. Something’s wrong with the door.”

“What?” The knob shook frantically as Chloe attempted to open the door “How is this—? How did this happen?!”

“I don’t _know_ , Chloe. Just get me out!” scolded Simone, her patience wearing thin.

“Okay, I’ll call the fire department!”

Simone listened as her friend dashed into the other room in pursuit of her phone. She sighed. Soon it would be over, she reassured herself. She could relax.

That’s when it started.

Simone’s body lurched forward as she heaved suddenly. Her tongue hung out, reaching over her  bottom lip. She heaved again, coughing. This time, her tongue touched her chin. The woman tried to replace her tongue back into her mouth, but any attempts at doing so resulted in more aggressive retching. That’s when she realized…

“ _My tongue…it’s growing._ ”

Panic ceased her being. She tried to call out for Chloe, but any attempts at forming words were damned. Her tongue jumped in size every few seconds, startling her and stretching her lips without warning. Simone could even look down her nose and see the grotesque flesh. And it was barbed, just like a cat’s.

Simone’s jaw was stretched open so wide, she felt it pop and crack. Tears formed in her eyes. Her screams were muffled around the expanding muscle. She could feel it pulsing intensely in her mouth. Eventually, the tip touched her collar bone.

She screamed again, but the back of her tongue began pushing against her windpipe. The air she took in from her nose barely reached her lungs. She couldn’t breathe.

The firemen wouldn’t make it in time. By the time they would break down the door, Simone will have already collapsed. She had to do something, _anything,_ to buy her time. She just needed to hold out a little longer until she could be saved from this nightmare.

Her teary eyes landed on the pair of scissors on top of her desk.

* * *

_May 21, 2009_

_A woman was found dead in her bedroom after locking herself inside and cutting off her own tongue with a pair of scissors. It was assumed that she had died from blood loss and trauma, but autopsy reports show that she had suffocated after attempting to ingest the severed tongue. According to the woman’s peers, she had been suffering some form of psychosis. Witnesses say that she had refused to drink or eat due to a growing suspicion of a “cat tongue” trapped in her bedroom wall. It can be assumed that the hallucinations were a result of malnourishment. However, there are still many questions left unanswered. How could a perfectly healthy woman suddenly slip into a psychosis without provocation? How could the psychosis have been so intense that she was driven to suicide within a week? Was this all a part of an elaborate prank that had gone too far? Was her death a suicide or an accident caused by an unstable mind? Until we know more, this case still remains very much a mystery._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there we have it, folks. The end of my very first attempt at a horror story! It was an interesting experience and I hope to improve my skills on more genres like this in the future.


End file.
